In a move that surprised exactly no one who understands how electricity works, NASA this week announced that, due to funding issues, it had to put its iconic Hubble and Chandra space telescopes on life support. This is not to be confused with an inspirational kind of life support where we rally around a noble cause and everything ends triumphantly, but rather the actual procedural kind where NASA files many memos and mutes cameras in very expensive Zoom calls.
The Hubble Space Telescope, which has been diligently photographing the cosmos since 1990 and occasionally suffering from existential crises in the form of gyroscope malfunctions, is currently operating in a single-gyro mode. This means it is partially functional, much like anyone on a red-eye flight with a toddler and no headphones. The result is a slower and less precise operation, though it can still peer into deep space and make you feel utterly insignificant, just a tad more leisurely now.
Chandra, Hubble’s X-ray sibling and the brooding goth of the space telescope family, is also seeing operational cutbacks. The observatory, which stares unblinkingly at high-energy phenomena in the universe while humming Cure lyrics internally (probably), faces reduced observations despite still being in good health technically. Its science-collecting activities are now scheduled with fewer hours, which is a bit like telling Sherlock Holmes he’s allowed two clues a week due to budget constraints.
NASA’s reasoning, as ever, is financial, because apparently looking into the origins of the universe and unlocking the mysteries of dark matter are not quite as glamorous to fund as, say, printing more paperwork. Operating funds for these storied telescopes, which cost a fraction of what your average flamethrower-toting billionaire spends launching cars into orbit, are being redirected to newer missions like the Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope and the European-led Athena mission that has the enthusiasm of youth and the bonus of being basically paid for by someone else.
Meanwhile, astronomers are gently mourning the decision, some with polite op-eds and some with tweets heavier in subtext than a Jane Austen novel. They argue rightly that newer missions, while exciting, are not direct replacements for Hubble or Chandra, much like a promising new intern cannot simply step into the shoes of the department’s only expert who actually knows how the printer works.
So while Hubble and Chandra may not be gone, they are certainly now on what we in the business call the slow train to obscurity, waving gently from the windows as more modern missions prepare to rocket past with shiny tools and questionable acronyms.
Turns out, even in space, nostalgia has a budget ceiling.